


but oh, my heart was flawed; i knew my weakness

by tragickenobi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, this can be read as platonic or romantic!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragickenobi/pseuds/tragickenobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke wouldn’t look again. “I didn’t say goodbye to you because if you’d told me not to go, I wouldn’t have. You would’ve been able to convince me to stay behind.”</p><p>“Really? Leia wouldn’t have?”</p><p>“If I really hadn’t needed to go, maybe. But she’s different than you. No you-” he laughed out of nervousness, “you would’ve just had to have said the word and I would’ve dropped the whole thing.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	but oh, my heart was flawed; i knew my weakness

 

 

When Luke came in, it didn't ever feel like he was ever fully there.

 

Of course after landing, after the funeral pyre had gone out, he'd gone straight to the village; Han and Leia hadn't been hard to find. But after an hour of it, he felt like he'd dissolved into the shadows. Moving between person and person like a half-solid shadow. He _felt_ like a half-solid shadow. Words and phrases over the past day would keep popping up in his head, ranging from causing a small pang in his chest to him stopping dead in his tracks to recover himself. Half-there shadow. Some people stared at him, like they weren't entirely sure if he was alright or if they should ask. Even the people that gave him odd looks eventually just passed him by. There was too much atmosphere for anyone to remain snagged on him for long.

 

He was in a numb state of slight pain. Everything felt muted; witnessing everything with his head dunked in water. Leia stayed by him for the first hour, making sure he was alright- he constantly assured her he was- until she disappeared somewhere else. He'd managed alone the rest of the while.

 

Once things started to wind down, it took Luke a bit off guard when someone hooked their arm around his and led him into an unused hut. He had just enough time to register _Han; do not attack_ before he was being hugged. He wavered at first, for just a few seconds, for his mind to catch up, but he quickly returned the hug. A shaky smile formed. It felt like he'd needed more of this than he'd given himself allowance for. 

 

"Leia said you were alright after it blew, but- well knowing _you_ -"

 

Han held Luke at arm's length, looking him over like a mother. "You've looked worse." he admitted.

 

Luke cracked another grin. He supposed he'd felt worse as well.

 

Then Han's face dropped of humor just as soon as it had come. Some of the cramped tension dropped from his shoulders.

 

"No offense, kid, but I thought you were dead."

 

It was probably an inappropriate moment for Luke to have considered telling him he had been vividly aware of that risk, especially considering the follow up sentence.

 

"I mean, you didn't even say goodbye."

 

There was genuine hurt on his face and in his words. And Luke got it; crystal clear understanding. He tried to push the null buzz in the back of his head away to focus on his words. A hard pull took his stomach.

 

"I- just figured it'd be easier." he put his hand over Han's, still against his bicep. "I didn't want to make it hard; we all had jobs to do."

 

"And realizing you'd gone off alone was making it _easy_?"

 

Luke's answer died in his throat at the buzz in his head becoming a sudden ringing drone. He made a noise that sounded like a muffled _ow_ , knees suddenly buckling. The physical toll was finally starting to become unignorable. Han's grip on him tightened once he realized Luke's body was going slack. Panic was the first definable thing to register.

 

"Luke- hey? Wake up, wake up, don't make me scared like this."

 

Luke forced his eyes back open, trying to find his footing on ground that felt far too liquid. "Sorry," he tried to hold himself up with mixed results. It was only a few seconds before he crumbled against him again.

 

Han held him up, steadying him with his hands under his arms. Quickly he eased him onto a bench that jutted from the wall, not unlike a bed in a medcenter. Luke winced, his skin feeling like it was on fire. Buzzing, crawling and rolling over his bones. It was a dull hurt but it still _hurt_.

 

"What's going on, how bad?" Han instinctively felt for his pulse before anything else.

 

Luke forced a smile. It wasn't hard to talk, but it still came out sounding labored. " 's nothing. Some of the blows are finally hitting me I think."

 

Han gave him a hard look.

 

"The Emperor tried to kill me after Vader did." Luke admitted, "He electrocuted me. A little." Pause. "A lot."

 

Still squatting so they were eye-level, Han exhaled. _A lot_. Considering the kid's tendency to under-exaggerate his own pain for the sake of everyone else, he figured it safe to translate that to _within an inch of his life_.

 

"We didn't use all the medkits after the battle." he said, speaking softer just in case. "I'll grab one and be right back, you're going to need rest."

 

"We'll talk when you get back." Luke mumble-corrected, eyes fluttering between alert and practically asleep.

 

Han nodded. "And stay awake, no dying. General's orders."

 

Luke promptly mock-saluted him. The pain was starting to rock back into its dull numbness, though it seemed certain it'd come back in full force at any given moment. Han ruffled his hair gently, standing and making quick to get back outside. It was a warm air still, a good number of people moving around. Ewoks still popping out of nowhere en mass.

 

It didn't take long for him to find a fighter he recognized from being one of the main helpers with the injured after the battle, who could point him in the right direction. Some half-used medkits remained. Han took two, just in case Luke was hiding more serious injuries than he was letting on. No one paid him much of a second glance by that point, everyone seemed wrapped up in either sleep or a place to be alone from the declining festivities.

 

Luke was still looking nine different shades of pale when he got back, but to a significant extent more awake. He was drumming a hand against his gloved one uncertainly, staring the thousand yard stare until Han re-entered. The visual set the mood of worry right back into place.

 

"Any better?" he asked while sitting down next to him.

 

Luke exhaled, somewhat nodding and somewhat shrugging. Han fought back the urge to roll his eyes- because what kind of idiot gets hurt to such an extent and goes for hours saying nothing? Luke, apparently- and evaluated the insides of the medkits. Medisensor, two oxygen masks (one that appeared cracked), bandages, miscellaneous things and nothing that looked like any form of pain killer. That irked him. Han put them down on his other side, flipping the medisensor to life.

 

Despite having closed his eyes and trying to focus on the essential not passing out order, Luke heard the machine whir and buzz while it scanned over him. A lazy sense of safety lulled over him briefly. "So, nurse, am I gonna live?"

 

He opened one eye. The look on Han's face sobered up his humor immediately. Luke opened his other eye and finally seemed properly worried. "Bad?"

 

"You're a goddamned idiot." Han mumbled, putting it down.

 

"Tell me what I don't already know."

 

"Well it says you're burned pretty bad. Two bruised ribs, and a _lot_ of tissue damage." Han exhaled, looking him over again. "I think you're lucky you didn't have a heart attack and die."

 

Luke swallowed. "Bad, then."

 

Han told him to lay down. With some effort he did, feeling the jolt in his ribs when he made contact with the flat, cold surface.

 

"I don't think there's anything here for burns." Han checked over the medkits again with dismay. "I'll try and get you as comfortable as possible; we can get you up to Home One first thing in the morning."

 

Luke mumbled a soft thanks, blinking hard to try and keep himself awake. There was a lantern light underneath  one of the blankets; Han put it on the ground and switched it on. Both flinched at the sudden harsh light that overtook the room. 

 

"Do you mind me asking how it went?"

 

Luke slightly flinched at Han lightly wriggling his boots off, at the feeling of skin on skin contact. The burn flared for a few seconds before mellowing back down. "I almost killed him; Vader. I had the upper hand, but I didn't. But I...I think I still killed him in the end anyway."

 

"Think? He's still alive?"

 

"No, he's dead. Definitely." Luke picked at the fabric of his glove again. "I burned the body before I came back here. But he died to- to save me."

 

Han looked up, frowning. And it hit Luke that he didn't know. Maybe it wasn't the moment to spring it, though.

 

"The Emperor would've killed me for sure if he hadn't." Luke continued, hoping Han wasn't in a terribly prodding mood. "He wanted me to kill Vader, but I just... couldn't. I had to break the chain. Break the ideology that the only way out of this war was through death." Despite not being able to say _he was my father, I believed in him_ , Luke felt overwhelmingly genuine.

 

Han seemed troubled trying to process it. They were silent while Han continued to check his exposed skin for burn marks.

 

"Leia told me about you two." Han abruptly changed the subject, clearing his throat with all the subtlety of an Imperial Destroyer. His hands guided softly as he moved and checked over Luke's neck. "Siblings, then?"

 

Luke cracked a lazy smile. "Twins."

 

"Do you know why you two never knew?"

 

Han looked up and almost instantly realized he'd overstepped. Luke's face had been fluctuating between levels pain with the contact. Now his eyes were a different kind of hurt. Han opened his mouth to apologize, except Luke spoke first.

 

"I've- gotten visions before. The ones about the future come and go, they're out of my control but- I can bring back ones about the past." Luke finally looked back at him. His face was dauntly thin in the harsh light. Childlike. "I think showing you would be easier than saying it. If you- if you want to."

 

Honestly, Han would've done anything to make the kid feel better right then. He nodded, moving closer and sat back on his knees. Luke put his bare hand against his neck, pressing two fingers just under the jaw and against his pulse. His eerily stoic face made Han uneasy. Then Luke closed his eyes and exhaled, pressing barely harder.

 

It took a moment, and it was sudden when phrases of sentences started coming into his head.

 

_Your overconfidence is your weakness._

 

_Your faith in your friends is yours._

 

_Sister. You have a twin sister._

 

_I am a Jedi, like my father before me._

 

_Now, young Skywalker, you will die._

 

_You, like your father, are mine._

 

Intercut with the phrases that just seemed to be on an endless loop were scattered images with varying levels of clarity. All from the vantage point of a third person, like the Force itself had documented it all. Then there was screaming and _burning_. Even though Han knew the pain wasn't his own, that it was phantom and no longer real, combined with the screams that seemed to overpower the words with each passing second, it felt as real as anything he'd ever felt. And then there was the visual of Luke screaming, lighting up purple and white and _dying_.

 

It was over with an abrupt halt. Luke had flinched his hand away, face reading like he was scared of what he'd just seen himself. He was even paler than he had been before. Han felt shakingly shallow at first, trying hard to process everything.

 

"Sorry." Luke said faintly, like the air had become glass. "That was too- I didn't mean for it to flood in like that."

 

_Your father._

 

It clicked. Han stared at him with the insinuation that he didn't want to understand it. "Vader-"

 

"Yeah... yeah."

 

Han stared at him. It was- he couldn't imagine it. The masked killer he'd been exposed to personally in Bespin and his best friend- the most selfless and kind person he'd probably ever come across- being so closely tied together just seemed impossible.

 

Luke sat himself up, trying to hide a wince, and sort of hunched over. Like he was trying to make himself more closed off and smaller. Like Han suddenly was going to hate him.

 

"Have you known for long?" Han asked, slowly coming up and sitting on the bench with him.

 

He was nothing but questions. But Luke remembered it hadn't even a month since they'd revived him. Of course he was going to have lots of catching up to do.

 

"Since Bespin." he answered, picking at his glove. The prosthetic had stopped responding; he had hoped it would kick back into gear soon, though that was probably too much to ask of it. "I went to find you guys, he was waiting. Bad day."

 

A flood of sudden anger hit Han in his chest. They'd been Luke's bait and he'd come like it was clockwork. He'd come for them and been met with _that_. And Han hadn't even been there to protect him. That was beyond his acceptance.

 

"Gods, kid," he laughed something horribly forced, "anything else I missed?"

 

The question had been rhetorical, but Luke didn't jest back. He glanced over his shoulder at Han, a look that told him yes. Frankly a little terrifying.

 

Luke turned so they were both sitting with their feet on the ground. He undid his glove, sliding it off and tossed it haphazardly onto the ground. In a way it was almost grotesque. Major portions of skin were missing, revealing intricate wiring and metal work. Nothing like blood, although what artificial skin was left was almost charred in some places. Blackened and practically chipping away without any provoking. Luke studied it himself, moving one of the fingers manually with his other hand.

 

"I think it was damaged when I was being shocked. Finally broke just a while ago."

 

Han took note of the white scarring around the area just below his wrist. He'd been fighting all this time being _disabled_. Everything he'd been doing combined with all this heavy weight bearing down over his shoulders. A large hole seemed to be sucking away his breath every time he tried to force out _something_.

 

He finally settled for pulling himself closer, taking the robotic hand in his own and running his fingers over it. He avoided the breakage, feeling the fake skin that, while felt like real skin, didn't feel like Luke.

 

"Why didn't I realize?" Han asked mostly to himself. The hole sucking away his air was becoming a chasm.

 

Luke smiled shakily out of knee-jerk response. "You didn't need to know."

 

Pained silence reigned for no less than ten seconds. Luke's left hand closed around Han's arm, nuzzling his face into his chest with a shaking exhale. Crying. He still ached horribly, bones creaking like old bolts and steel. He hurt.

 

"Leia doesn't know- about Vader." Luke swallowed a break in his voice, tears slipping down his face and falling into the space between them. "I- how do I tell her? This entire situation is already so much on her."

 

Han put his hand down softly. He reached down and grabbed a blanket from the open medkit box, pushing Luke away for a moment to drape it around him. Luke jumped with a wince. Han froze, holding back while Luke slowly undid and shrugged off his shirt. He made another pained noise, which kicked Han back into gear to help him.

 

The burns were the first things to immediately to his attention. They were jarringly dark against the otherwise pale skin. Nearly black-purple, shooting out like wild streams. They made his veins seem green in contrast. Several crossed across his chest, fading out near the back of his neck and near the tops of his shoulders.

 

Luke glanced at him when he noticed he was staring. “Bad?” He tried to peer back at himself, though he could catch glimpses just looking down at himself.

 

Gently, Han put the blanket over his shoulders. He knew you were supposed to treat burns with cold water, but damned if he knew where to find some quick and doubly damned if he was going to leave Luke alone like this. He tried to keep his hands on his arms and not cause any more pain than he surely was causing already.

 

"Don't think about any of that right now." Han said, "Everything else can wait."

 

"It can't." Luke shook his head, drawing the blanket tighter around him. "We're not done. The Imperials around the galaxy aren't just going to roll over once they hear the Emperor is dead. We need to fight them, we need to create a new government- we'll probably be at the front lines of that too- and somewhere in between find time to not entirely implode. And all _this_ ," he angrily glared down at himself, "is just going to make a transition harder."

 

He exhaled, drawing himself tighter into the crook of Han's arm. "I'm supposed to know what I'm doing. And for a while I think I did. But now that everything we've all worked for is finished- Han, I'm the last of them. The last Jedi. If I die before I can find anyone to train, that's it."

 

"It sounds more like you're about to try and take every problem out there and dive in head first."

 

Luke didn't look up.

 

"Kid, the universe isn't going to explode if you take time to heal. I promise. And we and _certainly_ you are going to be worse off if you try and take on everything by yourself. You'll kill yourself trying; hell, you almost did."

 

"What am I supposed to do then?" Luke glared up at him, although the angry image was rather softened by the still present tears.

 

Han stared back. "Stop. Breathe. _Something_. You've got to slow down and think before you become something you're not."

 

That made Luke smile sadly. “I know.”

 

He pressed tighter still against him, even though it hurt at first. It always stopped hurting after a few seconds anyways. Their silence didn’t bother him. He wanted to stay awake for this, despite his complete exhaustion.

 

“You would’ve convinced me to stay.”

 

Han looked down at him. “What?”

 

Luke wouldn’t look again. “I didn’t say goodbye to you because if you’d told me not to go, I wouldn’t have. You would’ve been able to convince me to stay behind.”

 

“Really? Leia wouldn’t have?”

 

“If I really hadn’t needed to go, maybe. But you know she’s different than you. No you-” he laughed out of nervousness, “you would’ve just had to have said the word and I would’ve dropped the whole thing.”

 

Han reached his hand down and grabbed Luke’s hand and held it really tight. Luke held back as tight as he could manage.

 

“I’ll consider us now even for me not being able to say goodbye properly before Bespin.” Han said, reassuringly squeezing his hand.

 

Another few tears fell down Luke’s face. “I’ve never forgiven myself for not getting there in time. I'm sorry I-” His voice broke off as the guilt became too complex to verbalize.

 

“Really, kid, what would you have done if you had?” Dear God, the second he was in better shape Han was going to whack him upside the head. A martyr if he’d ever seen one. “If anything it would’ve been harder on both of us. You wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

 

“Who says?”

 

“Luke- Gods you’re still impossible.” Han smiled out of pure exasperation.

 

“Did you think I was suddenly going to easy up?” Luke giggled, smiling up at him.

 

Han’s smile toned back softer, trying almost to capture the way Luke's eyes had finally held just some of the happiness. There were so many things he wanted to do and say to him. Heal him and press them forward. Seconds passed until he decided to settle for kissing the side of his head. “Try and sleep. You’re exhausted, I can tell.”

 

Luke shrugged, letting his head rest against his shoulder. “I feel great. Could take on a whole other Empire if I wanted to.”

 

Han rolled his eyes, squeezing his hand again. They sat in the silence for what could’ve been hours. Until it was completely dark outside and no one was moving around anymore. Luke eventually lolled off, face still barely damp with tears. Han almost didn’t want to move him. He would’ve gladly sat there all night until the morning. But he wanted to give the kid something more comfortable than his shoulder and a bench, so once he was sure Luke was firmly asleep, he used his arm to prop him up while he stood and picked him up. Weighed next to nothing. Han exhaled, uncertainly holding him closer.

 

Watching the second Death Star explode without knowing if Luke had been on it still wasn’t settled right in his stomach. It hadn’t been until he’d been holding Luke in that first hug that he wasn’t completely convinced he’d lost him. Even now he was sort of scared his body would vanish from his arms and it would all turn out to be some horrible fantasy he’d created for himself.

 

Han walked him into one of the less occupied huts the rebels had taken for quarters. He wondered how much longer they’d stay on this planet; a day or weeks or months. Despite how jumpy he was to get a move on, Han wasn’t sure if he wanted to take the next step forward. Trudge forward into that uncertainty Luke was so terrified of handling. It almost made him scared at well, if not for himself than for Luke's fragility in this moment. He set him down softly on one of the mats, silently cursing himself when Luke jolted at the contact against his burns.

 

Even once he was healed, he wouldn’t really be healed entirely back. Han sat down next to him and thought. Luke’s father had been Vader. He’d had to watch him give his own life to save his. He’d gone up to that station _expecting_ to die, and now had to deal with consequences he hadn’t been expecting to be alive to face.

 

_You would’ve convinced me to stay._

 

Han felt like crying now, amid the sleeping warriors. Luke was safe now, that should’ve been all that mattered. But there was that damned future now in his head. As far as he could tell, he was the only one besides Luke who knew about his parentage. It was fairly reasonable to think that not everyone would be as accepting of it. His life would be in danger again because of it. Han looked at Luke, shuddering in his sleep. Han tried to shake the image of him laying like this and dying on the floor of the Death Star.

 

He wasn’t the kid he’d said _be careful_ to back on Hoth. He'd grown up.

 

Softly, he knelt on one knee and redid the blanket over him. It was hard not to be transfixed on his burns. Han took a deep breath. He was terrified for him, for everyone. For him again and over again a thousand times. _What have we all gotten ourselves into?_

 

There was still several hours left until daybreak, hours until the first ships would report back to Home One for debriefing. Han considered sleeping on the floor next to Luke, so he wouldn’t have to wake up alone. But squinting through the darkness, there was a spot near the open doorway. Han remained on a knee to kiss him on the forehead. Soft, hardly a brush. But the kid at least looked more peaceful, one limp hand’s metallic bits catching some of the outside light as it laid against the floor.

 

Han navigated his way back towards the doorway, sitting down and propping himself up in the direction the sun would rise in. That’d wake him up, let him be able to be one of the first ones back. Get Luke safe first. He was going to be ungodly sore after hours sat like he was, but gods knew he’d slept in less comfortable places for less urgent things. One last time he looked back into the hut at Luke. Still safe, despite everything in his conscious worrying desperately about him. He was a Jedi Master who very much could not take care of himself.

 

He exhaled, crossing his arms over himself and closing his eyes. He willed the deep pit of worry in his chest to dissipate. _Sleep yourself._

  
Another quick look back in. Still safe. Sleep.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> basically this was all inspired because one night i got REALLY mad that luke never said goodbye to han before handing himself over to vader and i simply cannot accept that han never got mad or upset about that so... at least this is less angst-filled than my last work?


End file.
